Lost and Found
by DXM Junkie
Summary: A foster kid runaway. And the pair of understanding roommates who found him wanted to take away the pain of his world. Akuroku. AU.
1. Runaway

Lost and Found

By DXMJUNKIE

I.

Nothing good ever happened in life, nothing even remotely kind, that's what Roxas always thought.

His parents and brother died when he was only ten. They'd gone out for a car ride while he was sick at home and from then on he'd been perpetually alone. He sometimes thought about his life before that day occurred; of an unsettling happiness. But most of the time it made him sick to reminisce about and he honestly wondered if that was something he'd dreamt up. If his imagination was compensating for what could have never been real to begin with.

Carted between one foster home and another was never a comfort. Some of the people didn't even bother to learn his name. His clothes would be shoved inside a black garbage bag as if he was some sort of trash to be taken out as he'd was shuffled across the state.

Several people were kind and tried to be understanding but others only did it for the money. It was always easy to tell which was which, and the list he'd kept of all the homes he'd been in grew longer and longer on the bottom of his shoe.

At first coping meant silence. That was probably the largest reason so many of the other foster kids were disgusted with him. He refused to talk with them, refused to play, didn't feel like interacting. This lasted until he was nearly fifteen, until the social worker literally thought he was mute. For the blond there simply wasn't any incentive to speak aloud. Why bother wasting his thoughts on people who didn't care either way?

One of the foster fathers tried to molest him, though, and that's when he finally opened his mouth. What startled him was that they adamantly refused to believe him, they wondered why he would lie about something so heinous. Nonetheless, Roxas opened his mouth and pleaded with them to be sent to another place. But by this point the foster system didn't have any other place for him.

He was like an abandoned puppy who wasn't even worth finding a cardboard box for.

So he was driven to McKalmont, which was a state funded foster center in the city. With her lips pursed the social worker showed him the cot and communal bedroom that would serve as his home. Her sneer almost told him aloud that this was little more than he deserved.

He was beaten up within the first twenty-four hours and tortured constantly by the older kids. They played sick pranks such as shaving his head, slashing his arms with razor blades before informing security he was trying to kill himself. They cut his clothes to shreds and threw his shoes into a trash fire. It came to the point that even the pleasant nurse thought he'd brought this upon himself. He must have done something to these kids to make them hate him. Roxas felt like it was because he refused to let them know how much their actions hurt him emotionally that they continued with such aggression.

If Roxas didn't wake up black and blue during those days it was a miracle.

But he never told anyone about his treatment and refused to whine when he was battered. Speaking was just a weakness he told himself. The last time he'd spoken about his problems they hadn't believed him. So why should he start now. He knew where his place was in the world, his status.

By the time he was sixteen he implicitly understood that he was trash. He used to never believe it, but it was now a certainty for him. Sickly comforting in its assurance.

Nothing good ever happened, and no one in the world loved him.

II.

During one night when he was sixteen he decided to run away from the stupid center. The facility offered him little, even the shelter and food was enough to sacrifice in comparison to the physical abuse he endured.

He didn't have much to bring with him. What little he brought to that hellhole had been pretty much destroyed. So he stole a battered backpack from another kid, filled it with his possessions, and waited in a crouch outside next to the barbed wire gate.

When a social worker drove through the gate it opened just long enough for him to speed through it. He didn't have money but somehow the action of fleeing created a pure elation inside of him. He took off through the streets, darting through allies without knowing or caring where he was headed. They lived in a warmer part of the country so he wouldn't worry about sleeping outside.

When the adrenaline wore off he plopped on a street bench that overlooked the river. He had no sense of direction and barely knew the city. Foster kids didn't have many opportunities to get out on their own and he only knew the route to and from his school. School was another comforting thing to be skipped. At school the students knew which people were foster and they treated them accordingly. With a malevolent superiority.

Teachers tried to be sympathetic to other fosters, but since he never spoke a word they acted towards him with a sort of nonchalance. Roxas brought his feet up on the bench to wrap his arms around his knees. It was a little chilly on that summer night and he began to rethink his actions.

Should he have left?

But he knew that he could never go back. Because if he did the treatment would only get worse. The older boys would taunt him about running away and call him a coward. He'd be punished by security for escaping and if anything life would be even more unbearable.

Listening to the crickets chirping let his mind finally go blank. It was like a meditation where he refused to think about anything at all. A shiver rolled down his spine eventually; a random realization that this must be how a freed slave felt.

He had many obstacles ahead of him. Where he would sleep, how he would get money; stuff like that. But Roxas was a clever kid, he knew that the public library would be open for his use and he could utilize the internet to see how other runaways did it. He couldn't be the only one from the foster world to have resorted to this. There had to be others and maybe he could find them and squat with them and live with them. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could find friends doing so.

He wondered what having a friend was like. He'd never really had one since before the death of his family. And that era wasn't real or concrete in his mind, and it wasn't realistic. Those inimitable memories weren't obtainable anymore; not for someone like him. Roxas got to his feet and slung his backpack on before starting to walk along the river. He tried to imagine the best kind of place for him to sleep in. Not an alley, that would be dangerous. It would have to be secluded.

He had enough food to last him a few days. He'd filched a few things from the kitchen during his speedy exit. There were public fountains for drinks and even if it was filthy the river had water too. One by one he was trying to formulate his plan. He was trying to be smart about this and deal with the eventual repercussions. As he walked over a highway he saw a person lounging on the side of the overpass. That person was swaying back and forth, as if ill.

III.

"I'm sho luckiiii~!" The man slurred, "I didn't kno'f anybod'y 'ould helllllp."

Roxas spooned his arm around the guy and was leading him home slowly but surely. The man saw him walking past and pathetically begged him to help. He was obviously intoxicated, so much so that he probably couldn't see straight. Roxas pursed his lips and remained silent as he adjusted his grip on the slender body.

The guy was dressed casually with hemp necklaces and a mohawk atop his head. He also had a mullet in the back, which struck the blond as odd. But the man was friendly and needed assistance. Roxas had always been a good samaritan. Maybe it was because he'd always wanted help himself that he reached out to others whenever possible.

He soon learned that the man's name was Demyx and he lived about fourteen blocks away. To any other stranger that would be exasperating and they probably would have left the poor guy. But Roxas had nothing to do with his night and enjoyed Demyx's attempts at singing. As inebriated as the man was he had a beautiful voice.

He began belting out songs that Roxas knew from the radio. They were always happy songs about strength and love or acceptance.

His steps were hard to match and he often stumbled. Roxas simply held on tighter and slung Demyx's arm over his shoulder and continued onward with the hard-to-follow directions. The blond didn't own a watch so he could tell how much time it took, but after what felt like forever Demyx told him they were close.

The other thing he immediately liked about the man was that he didn't question Roxas' silence. He simply rambled on incoherently about this and that. Sometimes he started telling random stories about his friends or family only to cut off and begin singing again. Roxas found this amusing and didn't mind the tangents. He liked to listen because he felt like the man had something positive to say about anything and everything.

"A'nd thersh my buddy, Ax, and he's like all- whoa maaaaan you gotta stop drinkin' but it's'all like afta the show you just'a wanna have a buuuuur." Demyx explained, almost seriously.

Roxas finally smiled and nodded, which Demyx noticed and continued enthusiastically.

"I'm'all like, dude, for seriously. You'za just as'a bad as me with the boozekie!" The man giggled at his own joke before pointing, "AHA!"

Roxas followed his finger to a tidy apartment complex. They were on a nicer part of town where there wasn't much litter and nobody walking the sidewalks. It was quiet and calm around them. Roxas wondered if after he dropped Demyx off he should find a place around here to sleep for the night. He'd have to hid his backpack of course, with his food, because if he lost that he would be utterly out of luck. He'd be forced to return to the foster home- he'd have no choice.

Demyx fell against the wall of one particular building and was fumbling his hands into his pockets. He immediately dropped his keys to the ground and Roxas picked them up. There were only two keys attached, one of which was clearly a car key so he shoved the golden one into the lock and twisted. The door opened immediately. Demyx cheered as Roxas regained his hold on the man, leading him up the stairs to where he was frantically directing. Roxas would be sorry to see the enthusiastic man go.

IV.

The door swung open when Roxas politely knocked. It didn't appear that Demyx had a house key so it was his only choice. A man was on the other side, a man with hair the color of a fire engine. The lanky guy had crystal clear green eyes that looked momentarily confused until he noticed the mohawk resting on his shoulder.

"Dem!" The guy cried, obviously startled. He reached forward and pulled at Demyx by the waist. He practically lifted the singer into air and brought him into the apartment. Roxas took this as his cue to leave and turned to make his swift exit.

"Hold on!" The redhead said over his shoulder, "Come in,"

Roxas blinked and hesitated, but finally complied. The door shut behind him and as Demyx was shoved onto the couch he glanced around the room capriciously. It was a loft apartment with brick walls. There were random things strewn across the table but managed to appear tidy.

The redhead came forward and chuckled at him, also oddly friendly, "So sorry about that! Dem probably got drunk at the bar and forced you to take him home, didn't he."

Roxas shook his head in negation. The man seemed to be waiting for an explanation but Roxas quietly peered down at his feet.

"Thank you," the guy said, pushing his hand in front of the blond to shake. "My name is Axel, I'm his roommate."

Axel obviously expected Roxas to respond as he shook his hand but he remained stoically silent. Axel peered down at him, his expression open and obviously confused.

"Akshullll~ da kid don't tawk." Demyx explained from behind the couch, his voice muffled from some sort of fabric that covered him.

Axel let out an easy noncommittal smile, "I see. Well, are you thirsty? You want something to drink before you head home?"

Home. The words tugged on Roxas's heart and he almost felt the need to flee the apartment. But he was thirsty, especially after the physical exertion it took to bring Demyx back. He nodded, finally managing to meet the redhead's gaze. Axel was still smiling as he headed to a refrigerator tucked away in the corner.

"We have milk, tea, pop. Which one?"

Roxas held his two fingers up in the air awkwardly. Axel immediately grabbed a bottle of green tea from a small compartment, handing it over to him. Roxas opened the cap awkwardly and took several deep drinks. The liquid cooled his throat, he felt his shoulders relax.

"Again, thank you. I know how difficult a drunk Dem can be." Axel remarked casually.

Roxas finally gave him a timid smiled and shook his head in negation, as if to say, 'No problem.'

"Do you need a ride back home? It's super late," Axel pointed out.

Blue eyes widened in apprehension, something Axel took immediate notice of. He again shook his head in negation, this time more rapidly. Axel seemed to take in his shabby appearance, noting the bruises on his face before frowning to himself. This action make Roxas flush with embarrassment and shame. He probably looked no better than trailer trash scum. Which was shocking close to who he actually was: foster runaway scum. Roxas nodded his thanks for the tea and turned quickly away towards the door.

He shut it quickly and jogged down the stairs. Roxas was about to head outside when he noticed there was an open basement just around the corner. Thinking against leaving the locked building he tentatively headed down the stairs. The lights were off and it appeared to be a laundry room. There was an old comforter and mismatched clothes on the floor.

'_Perfect_,' Roxas thought to himself before he sat and made his home for the evening. Glancing down at the half-consumed bottle of tea he smiled to himself. Some people were kind in this world; even if it was just a gesture of gratitude.

V.

Axel was baffled when the kid bailed. The blond was visually nervous at his polite offer, and Axel couldn't help but wonder why. The kid had obviously gone through hell. His face was different shades of purple, his hair strangely cut, and his clothes ratty but well-worn and oddly clean.

Demyx was snoozing behind him. Axel decided to leave him there to sleep off the beer; better than dragging him half-conscious over into his bedroom.

Axel began puttering around his kitchen while making muffins for the girls at work. He hummed, his mind still caught on the strange kid who'd brought Demyx home. It struck him as odd; Dem usually drank on the other side of town at the bar where his band played. With as drunk as his musician roommate was, that meant he probably didn't get very far before the kid found him. Knowing Demyx, he'd probably pathetically pleaded for help, which would make anyone feel obligated. But that didn't explain it either. That blond would have had to literally haul Dem almost fifteen blocks.

What kind of person would go out of their way like that? So weird.

Axel set the timer for his muffins after putting them in the oven. He was still wide-awake so he figured he might as well get some other stuff done. After he washed the dishes in the sink and gave the countertop a rub down, he idly decided to wash his clothes.

His laundry had been piling up for several days, and even if he could do it tomorrow because it was his day off, it was easier to do it now when nobody was using the washing machines. Glancing at the clock it was already well past midnight. The laundry room would be empty. He gathered his clothes, snagged his keys, and meandered down the stairs to the basement.

Flipping the light on when he arrived he was about to plop his laundry bin down but froze. A pair of startled blue eyes were staring up at him from the corner. The boy had an old comforter wrapped around him, it looked like he was going to sleep there for the night. The bottle of tea he'd given him was propped on the floor. Axel's jaw nearly dropped, but he held himself back.

"Hey," he stated cautiously.

The kid was already darting up and making for a quick getaway. Unfortunately for him the only door out was the one Axel was standing in front of. Axel blocked his exit and held his hands out as if to halt him. This made the blond panic, his eyes were darting around for another escape. He looked so frightened that Axel felt bad.

"Calm down, calm down!" Axel told him, panicking slightly in his own respect.

This skittish boy clutched his backpack tight, backing away slowly. Axel paused and tried to absorb this visual information and the kid's demeanor.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone you're here." Axel felt obligated to say. "You're not in trouble."

The boy wasn't relaxing however, he was biting his lip almost raw. Axel felt his eyebrows furrow on his forehead.

"Why are you sleeping down here?" He asked quietly.

Blue eyes darted away from his face, almost ashamed and distraught. That's when something clicked in the redhead's mind and he felt almost empathetic for this boy who looked so lost and scared.

"Are you a runaway?" He queried in an equally quiet tone.

The boy paused but didn't move.

"Your family must be worried," Axel assumed, finally dropping his laundry basket on the floor and crossing his arms.

The boy looked crestfallen at his words but still didn't move at all. He began to fidget with the strap of his bag. The look that flashed across his eyes made Axel somehow understand that nonverbal communication.

"You don't have a family, do you." This time it wasn't a question.

The blond stiffened before finally shaking his head in a slow negation. Axel felt a huff of air leave him. He glanced around before sighing aloud.

"Well, c'mon then," Axel told him, motioning upstairs.

This only frightened the kid more and he started trembling and backing up.

"No, I'm not going to call the cops." Axel informed him quickly. The blond looked spooked. His mouth opened as if in an unspoken question.

"C'mon, you'll stay with us tonight. Dem won't mind, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you sleep on the floor with that ratty comforter left by the creepy lady in 2B." Axel stated. There was no room for argument in his tone.

Axel picked up his laundry with one arm before grabbing the kids wrist and hauling him back up the boy fidgeted, and almost tried to escape, but Axel held him firm in a vice-grip.

VI.

Roxas nearly peed himself when the redhead from earlier turned on the light. Roxas had been just getting comfortable and ready to doze off in the smelly comforter when he'd heard the footsteps down the stair. There was nowhere to hide. He'd been so sure he wouldn't be caught, especially at the late hour. He wanted to push past the man, and just flee into the streets, but Axel was literally covering the door with his tall stance.

Now he was back in the apartment from earlier. Demyx was snoring from the sofa. Axel paced the apartment after locking the door behind him, grabbing random blankets and what appeared to be a circular futon. Roxas wondered if he should just run while the guy was occupied. He didn't know what this man might do. Would he hurt him?

"Here, it's as much bedding as we have but it's better than nothing." Axel spoke as he was walking around.

Roxas felt himself swallow in apprehension, why was this guy acting like this? Why was he helping a dirty person like him? Roxas desperately wanted to ask. So much so that he felt himself clearing his throat and speaking his first words in nearly a year.

"Why...?" His voice was soft but felt harsh from disuse.

This seemed to gain Axel's attention immediately. The man smiled softly down at him before stepping over to stand in front of him. He looked calm, still friendly. It was an odd expression aimed at Roxas.

"I seriously couldn't leave you down there." Axel told him, his smile turning into an amused smirk. Roxas didn't understand the words. Why hadn't he questioned the him about his sudden vocalism? Why would he feel that way, what compelled him? Axel let his hands brush through thick red tresses as if thinking on something adequate to say.

"Look-" Axel fumbled in front of him, it appeared out-of-character, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Axel let his eyes meet blue and Roxas understood he was serious. This man was not a threat, that was clear to him now.

"It's just-" Axel again faltered, "I can't _not_help you. Not when you look so... devastatingly sad. So alone."

Roxas was floored. He hadn't expected such a statement. The man had spoken like he was equally hurt. But how could this man he'd just met see he was in pain when it had never mattered before? He pursed his lips and gave a doubtful frown.

"Kid, you look like you just had the world beat on you. And I can't just let that stand, not when you were ready to sleep in a basement like that. You-" the redhead almost sounded commanding, "Sleep here. And don't panic and run first thing in the morning. I'll make you breakfast, I'm a good cook. If your homeless, stay until you get on your feet again."

Roxas shook his head as his eyes glazed over in tears and he despondently whispered, "You don't have to,"

"No, I don't." Axel affirmed. The timer went off over the oven and Axel went to pull something out. A sweet smell filled the room. "But I'm going to anyway."

Axel turned again, "What's your name?"

"..." Roxas wasn't sure if he should tell him. He didn't know if he should trust this guy. Trust was an unknown concept for him. But Roxas let himself look back over at this man who seemed to be waiting patiently. That expression, the way he held himself; Roxas would believe him, he would trust him if only for this night.

"Roxas." He finally spoke with a soft downtrodden smile, it looked almost tragic on his beaten face.

"I'm Roxas."

VII.

The smell of coffee and eggs filled his senses and Roxas heard his stomach rumble before rolling over casually. Blearily opening his eyes he quickly darted up from the comfortable warmth. This was not the foster center.

Looking around frantically he finally spotted the man from the night before. Axel. His back was turned away towards the oven as he expertly flipped an omelet. Roxas felt his stomach tighten. He was overwhelmed with hunger.

"Oh, hey there!" A voice came to his left, startling him.

Demyx stood above him wearing a fresh outfit. He didn't appear hungover. In fact he held the same lopsidedly friendly grin as the night before. Dem crouched next to him nonchalantly. Roxas was baffled at what he felt was freakishly abnormal behavior.

"Thanks for last night," Dem stated sheepishly.

"I feel awful for making you drag me home all that way. But good thing you did, huh, Ax told me you'd needed a place to stay." He spoke conversationally.

Dem's tone was light, as if nothing was amiss with Roxas pooled around on a comforter on his floor. Roxas felt like a deer in headlights. Demyx seemed to notice this and laughed at the expression.

"Don't look so freaked out. I don't care, dude. We are happy to have you here."

Axel was walking towards him dawned in a blue apron with his eyes apparantly saying, '_told you so_.'

"..." Roxas opened his mouth and asked in his raspy voice, "You... don't mind?"

Demyx laughed, his voice melodic and queerly comforting, "Of course not!"

Roxas cringed before hugging his arms around his legs.

"Why..." he felt himself swallow and forced the words spinning around his head out, "...let a stranger...?"

This time it was Axel's turn to chuckle. Roxas gazed up at him attentively.

"As if!" He grinned and winked conspiratorially, "You're no random. You're Roxas, and from today on you're Dem's cousin who came to stay with us."

Roxas blinked as he absorbed this information. Demyx was already moving past him. He was clumsily grabbing plates from a rack and brushing the stuff off the table to make room for three.

Demyx glanced over at him, "The bathroom's over there," he pointed, "Go take a shower. Breakfast should be ready when you're done."

Roxas slowly got to his feet and entered the bathroom. He locked it and quickly relieved himself before staring at his reflection in the large mirror. What the hell was going on he wondered. Was he dreaming? Had he somehow entered an alien universe?

But right now Roxas found that he didn't care. The idea of a warm shower was heavenly. He turned on the water before shedding his clothes and allowing the streams of silky heat to run down his body. Closing his eyes he shook his head and scrubbed his face. A sense of propriety told him not to use their soap or shampoo because these strange people were already being so helpful to him.

A knock outside the door echoed across the tile.

"Towel's in the cabinet!" Demyx's voice shouted.

Roxas turned off the water and grabbed a towel before putting his clothes from yesterday back on. It felt like a shame to do so but he only had the clothes on his back in his possession. In all actuality he only owned the clothes he wore; everything else had been destroyed. He folded the towel neatly and left it on the counter.

Peeking his head outside the door his stomach gurgled in demand to the strong smell of hot food. He slowly walked out, still cautious.

"C'mon," Dem cried from the table, "Grubs all hot and ready."

Roxas sat on the seat opposite of Demyx. Axel set a plate of steaming omelet and ham in front of him along with a bottle of the same green tea he'd given him the night before. Roxas noticed this gesture of Axel catering to his preference in drink. Demyx pushed a fork across the table and unceremoniously began piling food into his mouth. He munched loudly, uncaring if it was indelicate.

Axel sat next to him after a moment and began eating himself though with a lot more reserve. Roxas took the fork and cut into the food before slowly taking it and putting the fork to his mouth. It was amazing; so fresh and delicious and tasty. He felt his eyes close in bliss. He hadn't had decent cooking in years.

"I know, right?" Demyx said, his mouth still full, "Ax's cook'n is ama-zing."

Axel chuckled, "Well if you learned to cook yourself,"

Roxas kept eating while watching these men out of the corner of his eye. His plate was soon clean. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so full. The portions they got at the center were plentiful but other fosters would easily steal his food knowing he wouldn't give them any protest.

"Thank you," He commented, suddenly shy.

"No worries." Axel told him before standing up. The redhead snagged the blond's empty plate and walked over to the kitchen. He deposited it in the sink absentmindedly, uncaring about washing it right now.

Roxas felt like he should say something- do something. But the words were caught in his throat. Even as a child he'd been the quiet sort but now it was if there was nothing to express his inner turmoil at this confusing behavior from strangers. He stared at the table while his fists clenched in his lap.

Demyx seemed to notice instantly, "You okay?"

Roxas almost let out a noise of disbelief. This man who he just met sound actually, honestly, _worried_. About him. About a foster brat.

Suddenly, unbidden, Roxas felt tears flood his eyes. He brought his hand to his mouth to still his trembling. Demyx yelped, jumping to his feet and moving to pool his arms around Roxas in an impromptu hug.

"It's okay, it's okay," Demyx told him.

This only fueled Roxas on, he let out a harsh sob, his whole face turning red as he curled inward. Demyx tightened his hold and stayed like that. The musician began rubbing his back and soon Axel was next to him ruffling his hair compassionately.

"You're fine," Axel's deep voice rumbled, it sounded almost desperate to calm him down.

It took several long moments for Roxas to calm even in the slightest. His blue eyes reflected disbelief as he peered up at the people cradling him. He let his hand brush Dem's slightly and tried to smile. It was all he could think to do to convey how grateful he was or how relieved that there was kindness in this world. Kindness he never knew existed.

"Thank you," Roxas whispered. "So very much."

Axel's hand clasped his own and tightened, as if refusing to let go. It was a comforting gesture, so gentle.

Nothing good ever happened, nothing even remotely kind. That's what Roxas had always thought.

TBC.


	2. Empathy

Lost and Found

By DXMJUNKIE

Chapter Two: Empathy

I.

Nothing good ever happened; nothing even remotely kind. That's what he'd always thought.

Until something so radically unexpected happened that Roxas was thrown into a new world he'd never known existed. An inexplicable kindness found in strangers who were willing to help someone without expecting anything in return. It was hard for him to comprehend this makeshift home, let alone the people who nonchalantly shared his life. He still felt awkward and deeply indebted to the pair of roommates who treated him with casual familiarity.

He'd been staying in their apartment for a week and the newness of it all hadn't worn away.

Axel noticed after the first day that he never changed clothes and without asking pulled some of his older wardrobe out and left it on the carpet next to the extra couch that now served as Roxas's bed. The extra sofa belonged to Demyx, which Axel had helped haul out of his room and push along the wall, even if it made the living room a little cramped.

Roxas watched him, stunned by their action, only to find Demyx clearing out one of his old plastic storage containers so Roxas would have a makeshift dresser. A fluffy comforter was given to him, along with soft pillows. They'd even tacked up several tapestries around that area to give Roxas a sense of privacy. Normally most people wouldn't consider sleeping on a cough to be a luxury, but for the blond this was the most wonderful setup he'd ever been seen. It was the thoughtful way they acted, without hesitation they wanted him to feel comfortable. Roxas would have been grateful to sleep on the floor. When he'd run away he'd been prepared to sleep outside through the elements, after all.

He barely spoke since that first morning but neither seemed to care. It struck him as odd that they never questioned his silence when they knew he could speak. They never asked probing questions or demanded answers he wasn't sure he could give. They accepted his presence in their loft as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Roxas learned things about his new roommates. The pair would chatter as Axel cooked or Demyx strummed notes on his sitar. They both were devastatingly kind; that was the first thing he learned. Then slowly but surely other facts began to surface, it felt like a privilege to receive the smallest detail. Nobody had ever given him such a chance.

Axel was twenty-four. He'd just graduated from college and worked at a small entertainment agency booking bands. His coworkers were mostly females and Axel liked to bake for them since he was still a rookie and often needed help. Axel was after all an amazing cook. The tall man enjoyed his job but sometimes he would complain to Roxas about certain events that took place or his boss. Roxas couldn't fathom why, but he loved and looked forward to hanging out with Axel one on one. He could listen to the man talk for hours. Roxas even began cooking under Axel's careful tutelage.

Axel wasn't from the city originally but had decided to stick around because it was cheaper to rent an apartment with a roommate and he'd found a job within walking distance. The redhead loved to watch old Western movies, and held a mellow disposition despite being oddly cocky. Roxas implicitly understood that his attitude wasn't based in hubris. Axel was simply self-confident in a way the blond envied.

Demyx was twenty-three. He'd gone to the same college as Axel, which is where they met, but dropped out before finishing his degree. When he wasn't creating music with his band he worked at a coffee shop. The strange Mohawk he styled his hair into, Roxas found, was after a drunken accident with friends. He'd hated the look at first but soon began liking it when it made their band more recognizable. Friends were something that Demyx had an abundance of. His cell phone was always chirping with calls or texts, and Roxas felt that it was because the man was so friendly and easy to talk to.

Demyx loved reading comic books and listening to all sorts of music. He enjoyed long showers, scanning his laptop for the latest instrument trends, and making comical jabs at Axel. A friendly competition existed between the two. It was a healthy friendship that the blond observed with rabid attention. Roxas wondered if he could become more like them; talkative and complacent. He contemplated how two such different people could balance each other so perfectly.

Roxas didn't leave the apartment that first week. He was terrified of being spotted by social workers or police officers. He wondered how the foster system felt about his absence and if they counted it as a blessing. He was scared they were scanning the streets for him to bring him back and punish him.

The first couple days he began idling his time by reading books on a large shelf by the television. The books were on a wide variety of topics and they weren't owned by either roommate. Demyx explained to him when he'd caught him reading that a close friend left them in their place for safe-keeping since he didn't have enough space. Demyx assured him that he could read them all if that's what he wanted to do. The man who owned the books was apparently close to Demyx, because the musician's eyes held a glazed expression whenever he spoke about him. His name was Zexion Altori, a fact Roxas learned because the name was neatly printed on the inside cover of each tome.

When Roxas was alone, another thing he often thought about was how he would proceed next. He didn't have his high school degree or even a name that he could stand by without getting caught. This was a constant stress for him. He felt horrible about his situation; eating their food and using their hot water without returning a single cent.

Axel and Demyx woke early for work. Demyx was always chipper in the early morning, Axel balefully tired. Whenever they left Roxas would clean the place up. He'd wash the dishes, sweep and mop the floors, wipe a rag over the tabletop and counters. He was careful to never mess with their stuff or invade their privacy. He would often lift random items up so he could dust, or organize the strewn DVD's on the carpet, but he wouldn't touch stuff that appeared important. The blond felt like this was the only way to make his keep. He never went in their rooms but wondered what they looked like.

He wondered how much their personal possessions would reveal about them. He wondered if Axel's room would be cleaner than Demyx's; if they made their beds or kept their clothes folded. He wondered if the walls were covered in family photos and what family photos even looked like.

But most of all, when he was idling his time, he wondered what the pair thought about him. He hoped they didn't find him a nuisance, or regret letting him stay with them.

II.

It was early evening. Roxas vacuumed the carpet in the living room, careful eyes making sure not to bump into anything. He was almost done when he heard the front door open. His eyes deftly scanned the clock, Axel was home from work.

"Hey," Axel's voice was loud above the machine. The redhead was waving cheerfully as he threw his satchel on a chair. Axel was wearing his suit jacket, though it appeared too formal on him. Roxas thought he looked better in his casual shirt and jeans.

Roxas quickly flipped the switch off before turning around and offering the man a timid smile in response. The vacuum was placed neatly back in the closet before he scampered towards the redhead as his greeting.

Axel's expression was pleased when he motioned for Roxas to take a seat at the table. The smell of Chinese food wafted into his nose. Axel snagged green tea for the blond and a beer for himself from the fridge before sitting on the opposite side of him. Axel tugged his tie from around his neck.

Axel finally leaned back in his chair and returned his attention to the stoic boy, still cheerful yet oddly thoughtful.

"I have something to talk with you about." Axel said as he pulled white containers of food out of a brown bag and pulled their lids open.

Roxas was confused and this was apparent on his face. He watched Axel pull out two sets of chopsticks before he handed him one. Roxas placed them on the table in front of him, hands crossed and waiting for Axel to continue.

"So," Axel paused, vivid green eyes locking with blue as he sat up in his seat. "Today I did some poking around."

Roxas suddenly felt wary as a ball forced its way into his throat. He twitched anxiously. He didn't like where this subject was going. His fears were promptly confirmed.

"You're name is Roxas Anderson, and you're sixteen, originally from Twilight Town on the opposite end of the state." Axel probed, watching the boy for his reaction.

Blue eyes dropped to his lap and Roxas fidgeted, undeniably nervous. He knew that Axel would wonder where he was from, but he never expected the man would try to look that up on his own time. He felt like he ought to be angry at the invasion of his privacy, but wasn't offended in the least. Rather, his mind was blinded with worry as to what Axel would say next.

Would he kick him out? Report him to the authorities?

"You lived in the McKalmont Foster Center which is known for being brutal. McKalmont's main endeavor is to lock up supposed '_criminal youth'_ and as a place for punishing foster kids." Axel's tone edged to nasty for a beat.

Roxas gulped, unsure what Axel thought of him now. That he was a bad kid who'd committed crimes? Or a petty thief?

"When you got here you were covered in bruises and looked practically anorexic. I was worried, so I did a little digging into the treatment of kids at that center and learned that it's pretty damn shitty. That's not a productive atmosphere for a kid like you." Axel's voice was calm and clear. It held no tint of accusation or pity. He was stating facts nonchalantly as if they didn't even relate to Roxas and his past.

"So, I decided that you are going to live here- at least until you're eighteen. And you can't argue with me about this because my mind's made up. Demyx has already agreed." Axel declared with an even tone. The words sounded foreign, like another language was being forced onto Roxas.

Roxas's eyes flew from his lap to search the man's face. He blinked in astonishment, mouth dropping open in perfect surprise. His mind went blank with awe. He wondered what the hell was going on.

"I know I shouldn't have looked you up in the first place, and I apologize 'bout that. But we needed to know if you were a criminal runaway or not. I didn't think so, but you know, better be safe than sorry."

Roxas finally shook his head in negation, still lost, "No," his voice croaked out, "It's alright."

Axel smiled at him with a calm almost nonchalant attitude, resting his face against his hand as he stared at Roxas. He was an attractive man, Roxas thought randomly. All bold lines and mature features.

"I should… have told you." Roxas whispered anxiously, hands clenched tightly on the table.

"Well I won't argue with you about that, and I wanted to ask you and all, but I didn't want to spook you and wake up to find you'd run away again." Axel said.

"Because if you did that I'd have to go out and search for you, since that would only make me worry even more." The words were almost affectionate despite their serious nature.

The blond tilted his head to the side, unabashedly confused, "…?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few things about yourself. You don't have to answer of course, but this could help us both out."

Roxas bit his lip, pondering this inquiry. He finally gave a tentative nod. Axel looked relieved as he pulled his hand away from his face and clasped his fingers today on the table to imitate Roxas's demeanor.

"Okay- so, how did you end up in McKalmont? Normally they only send delinquents to that place."

The memories washed over him. His mind was full to the brim of terrifying scenes, hurtful words and physically painful actions. He felt his hand absently rub the arm that the older kids cut with a razor blade. The skin was still tender even if the wound had long since healed.

Roxas wondered how he could word the needed explanation. He wouldn't hide anything from Axel, the man deserved that much. Axel had offered a helping hand to a foster runaway without reservation. He'd welcomed a complete stranger into his life only to offer him delicious food and kind words.

"…"

Axel didn't move as he patiently waited. Roxas appreciated this fact. He wasn't rushing him for answers.

"I've been in the system for six years," Roxas explained when he found his voice. "My family died. I've gone through thirty-two homes … I didn't get along with people since I refused to talk."

"You? Not talkative? Since when," Axel teased lightly.

Roxas forced a smile, "One day I finally spoke up and that's how I ended in McKalmont."

"And what did you say that got you stuck in that hellhole?" The question was innocent, not spiteful.

Roxas understood that Axel held no ill intentions, but it didn't stop the well of despair from wracking his brain. He really didn't want to say the words aloud. Gathering his strength he opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

Roxas flushed with shame and his voice was nothing more than a choked whisper, "A foster father… tried to… touch me."

Axel stiffened from across the table. His eyes became unreadable, "Did he rape you?"

With his eyes on the wall Roxas whispered inaudibly, "… Almost."

"Why weren't you sent to another home? Was that fucker punished?" Axel's voice was urgent and tense this time, harsher than Roxas had ever heard. It made him feel small and meek.

"They… I mean, the social worker… thought I was lying." Roxas felt his face flush red, his head pounding from the implication. Would Axel think he'd been lying too?

Axel appeared even angrier, he brushed an unsteady hand through chunky red hair as he murmured between clenched teeth, "Those horrible assholes."

Axel took in a deep breath, trying to calm down before continuing, though it seemed he already knew the answer, "So why did you run away?"

Again Roxas was silent as he searched for the right words. He was trying to figure out which one would sound the least pathetic.

"… Harassment." He finally chose.

Axel rolled his eyes, "Yeah, beating someone up to a pulp and starving them is pretty much the dictionary definition of harassment. That's a pretty good reason to run the hell away from the system that allowed it."

Roxas watched Axel carefully, observing the man's expressive face. Sometimes Roxas could hear the words that Axel left unsaid. And at this moment it was obvious. Right now Axel was defending him, was sticking up for his actions. Yet anyone normal would not think or act the way Axel did.

What was going on in the mind encased beneath those spikes of red hair?

III.

The world was cruel; Axel knew that was an unchangeable fact.

He'd experienced it firsthand back when he was the punching bag for jocks who hated the black clothes he wore in high school. When they hated him because of where he lived, his taunting attitude, and the situation he'd been forced into. Things he had absolutely no say over.

Despite those facts- it was hard to fathom just how cruel it could be as he observed the stoic boy in front of him. Roxas was scared, antsy. One thing was for certain; what this kid went through was fucking awful.

What kind of people worked for the foster system these days? How could the social worker have not believed him? And not only assumed he was lying, but punished him for something that was out of his control?

It was glaringly obvious that this kid was nothing but sensitive, polite and courteous. He wasn't the sort to tell careless lies, not when he spoke so few words to begin with.

The pair never requested that Roxas needed to clean up their place when they were out, but Roxas always did so with dedication. At first Axel thought he cleaned because he either enjoyed the act or it relieved his boredom. But Demyx suggested that he did so to pay them back. Demyx explained to him that Roxas probably felt indebted and didn't know how to express that. Axel was reeling as he tried to imagine what Roxas's life must have been.

His own parents died when he was young, Axel was empathetic. The foster system was disgusting and unforgiving, the unhealed scars dictating Roxas's mindset and reactions. Roxas always anticipated the worst even on that first night they'd met. Roxas had been so quick to assume he'd turn him in, punish him. Roxas hadn't learned kindness from other people, that fact was also apparent. Yet he _was_ kind- he'd proven that when he walked Demyx home simply to help the guy out.

The words that had been exchanged were whirling around his head.

"How far into high school did you get?" Axel finally decided to ask.

Roxas's eyes were still glazed with emotion but the kid answered him even if Axel's questions had been naïve and insensitive.

"Sophomore."

"And I assume that school was no better than the center." Axel said flatly, trying not to sound like he was putting the words into Roxas's mouth.

Roxas paused, that curious and confused expression so clear on his face. Axel deftly learned how to read him the past week simply from his eyes and his body language. Roxas seemed hard to understand at first but his actions were straightforward and that blue gaze couldn't hide anything. Especially for Axel who was an expert at understanding people's intentions.

"Teenagers are assholes." Axel explained, "They were bad enough when I was a young. If you didn't fit in you were ostracized. I can only imagine how horrible they acted towards as a foster kid who chose not to speak."

Roxas nodded and he obviously didn't know where this was leading.

"Have you ever had a job?" Axel continued.

"No."

"Okay, then. That's all I wanted to ask." Axel smiled down at him but it was unnatural and didn't match his face.

Roxas sensed this, "You sure?"

"Well…" Axel sighed. "That whole situation you lived in is such complete and utter bullshit. I needed to know those things about you simply because now we can proceed. I have a friend Tifa who can help you get homeschooled so you can finish your diploma without the system finding you. Demyx's cousin, Aerith, runs a flower shop two blocks away. After I tell her a bit- and I mean just a tiny bit- of your circumstances, I'm positive she'll let you get a job there."

IV.

Roxas was again floored as Axel continued without reservation.

Green eyes were passionate as he leaned forward, "I will not allow you to go back to that place. Do you hear me? You stay with us. At least I'll know you'll be fucking safe and not beaten up simply because you're an easy target."

Something weird fluttered inside Roxas's chest, making it hard to breath. It swelled before ballooning with an unknown affection for the man in front of him. Axel was putting himself out there, was concerned about his future. Even after hearing the truth, even after finding out who Roxas really was, the man wanted him to stay, wanted to help him _just because_.

Roxas bit his lip, trying to still the tears of happiness that were flooding his eyes.

"Axel…" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

He knew it was the first time to speak the man's name aloud, and judging by Axel's reaction the redhead noticed as well. Axel smiled softly; inimitably thankful that Roxas understood what he was saying.

Roxas didn't know how he could express his gratitude. It was overwhelming. He didn't know how to vocalize or explain anything right now, which he wasn't good at anyway, so he reached across the Chinese takeout and grabbed one of the hands resting on the table. Roxas squeezed the appendage, his throat too tight to speak.

Axel stood suddenly, forcing Roxas to release his hand, before crossing to his side and pulling his arms tightly and fiercely around the smaller boy. The blond stood awkwardly while Axel adjusted the contact, refusing to let go even if Roxas tried to pull away. Not that Roxas wanted to; rather he wanted Axel to hold him like this for the rest of eternity. Axel's fingers were clenching into his shirt, his sharp chin resting atop his head. Roxas pooled his own arms around the slender waist, burying his face into the white button-up. Roxas locked his hands behind Axel's back to push closer. He could hear Axel's heart beat in his chest, and again noticed how much taller the redhead was.

Axel smelled like smoke and musk. His slender arms were unyielding and safe. How could someone so thin feel so strong?

For the very first time since his parents died Roxas felt as if everything was truly going to be alright. He didn't feel like he was treading dangerous and unknown waters. He didn't feel scared half to death at what the next day would bring. He didn't fear fists or the leers of that dirty old man who tried to touch him. He wasn't afraid of the taunts his classmates spewed. Blue eyes fluttered shut.

"I will protect you." Axel spoke again, spooning him tighter.

V.

After Roxas calmed down they ate their lukewarm food in relative silence. Roxas could barely taste the food and didn't feel hungry after their previous conversation. But he slowly took bite after bite, only because he knew Axel bought the meal for them to share.

Neither felt awkward per say, rather, they didn't know what to say. Axel was wondering what Roxas was thinking and vice versa.

The unfinished containers were shoveled into Tupperware for leftovers. Axel pulled Roxas over to the couch and turned on the television. They sat closer than normal, taking up only one side of the large furniture. The blond was stiff as a board while Axel tried without success to relax. The movie playing on the screen was some kung-fu action flick. Neither paid any attention to it.

Roxas craned to face him after a few minutes, voice still timid and small, "Why help me so much?"

Axel blinked, turning a little to peer down. He frowned, "Why wouldn't I?"

Roxas was baffled, "Well…. I'm a stranger."

Axel chuckled bitterly, "No, Roxas. I've known you my whole life."

Roxas was taken aback. He hadn't been expecting that sentiment.

"I was in the system for five years." Axel finally confessed with a low tone tinged with sadness.

Roxas's eyes were saucers as his full focus turned to the redhead, the television now utterly ignored.

Axel leaned back, pulling his arms behind his head and staring off into the distance, "My dad's in prison for drugs, my mom ran out on us when I was your age. My brother and I were put into the system and just like you I was shuffled around from place to place."

His voice was thick with nostalgia as he continued, "I was lucky though. I ended up with a lady named Yuna and her husband Tidus who treated me well. I was with them until I graduated. She even helped me study for my SAT's that got me into college. She helped me fill out the paperwork for financial aid and rooted me on."

"Yuna died last year, though, of cancer." Axel sighed, "Her funeral was so small. I was so angry. Tidus was heartbroken and it was hard to see him like that. This wonderful woman was underappreciated even in death. She helped me, a foster nobody, to find a future of my own. I'll never forget it."

Axel locked eyes with Roxas, "But that's not why I needed to help you."

Axel seemed to think about something before reaching a hand down to ruffle blond spikes, "It's because I could tell, right from the start, that you weren't a bad kid. Rather, I knew that you were the best kind of person imaginable."

Roxas was watching him, absorbing each word like a sponge. He began scooting forward next to Axel so that they were only inches away. Axel smiled because he liked when Roxas was in his element.

"You helped Demyx out that first night. You didn't have to but you did so anyway. You probably feel like you owe us something so you help around the loft and clean. You make sure to stay out of our way when we're busy and make sure that you don't leave a mess." Axel stated as he began ticking off fingers one by one. "You never invade our privacy and you listen to us as if the menial crap we talk about is the most fascinating stuff you've ever heard. You're quiet but perceptive, and thoughtful."

Axel gave a warm smile which found Roxas hitching a breath, "And your eyes are the most truthful I've seen in years."

Axel leaned down to stare closely at said eyes. Axel thought they were the loveliest shade of blue imaginable with flecks of cerulean swirling around cobalt. They looked endearingly large on his delicate face, clear and honest. Like the sky on a beautiful sunny day both cloudless and comforting.

Roxas blushed slightly, feeling shy. Axel was complimenting him. Without thinking he reached down and covered Axel's hand with his own. Smooth skin pressed gently together.

Roxas was surprised by his own action. He normally feared physical contact. He'd always been scared of other people. Whenever someone touched him it was almost always to hurt him. Yet now he was reveling in the presence of Axel. He didn't mind touching Axel's hand. He could only seem to notice how much bigger it was than his own slender fingertips.

Roxas smiled softly to himself as he stared down at their hands.

He didn't notice Axel's eyes widening in rapt surprise.

Axel felt himself grinning foolishly in response. Because this was the first unconcerned and unaffected true smile he'd seen Roxas wear. It was a smile that told he was comfortable, not scared like the lost sheep he'd seen on the first night they'd met.

It was a smile that ignored and surpassed all the pain Roxas ever dealt with.

Axel felt like seeing that expression was the greatest compliment he'd ever received.

VI.

Axel pooled his arms around Roxas again after a moment, pulling him up onto his lap in a platonic gesture of affection. Roxas hadn't been expecting it but didn't reject the action either.

Roxas was secretly pleased; he'd been reliving their previous hug in his mind like a wonderful reel from an old movie. Axel's arms were boney and lanky and Roxas was stiff, yet it was the gentle way the man held him that made him appreciate the inimitable example of how physical contact should be. Axel would never hurt him. Roxas trusted him. At that moment in time those facts were all that mattered to the runaway.

Axel lifted his lean legs onto the couch, scooting Roxas around him in a way that oddly made both of their hearts race. The blond felt his face flush so Roxas hid his cheeks in the fold of Axel's button-up. Roxas reached his hands to trace Axel's bicep. Axel trembled at the touch.

Axel was trying to ignore how pleasant and wonderful the hug was so he averted his eyes and stubbornly forced his chin into blond hair. Axel kept reminding himself that the kid was only sixteen and dear god he needed to keep his thoughts clean. But when Roxas clung to him like that, with Roxas was in his arms, he couldn't help the thrum of pleasure.

Roxas could hear Axel's heart racing, could feel his chest expand and exhale breath. Axel noticed Roxas pushing closer just as he'd done before, so that there was no space between them. The redhead sifted his fingers through soft spikes, rubbing his thumb against the base of Roxas' skull.

Roxas's eyes grew heavy, his whole body relaxing into the embrace.

"_I will protect you._" Axel earnestly told him. And Roxas believed him.

Nothing good ever happened; nothing even remotely kind.

That's what he'd always thought until he'd met Axel.

TBC.


End file.
